


Fire from Ashes

by jujubiest



Category: Lost Girl
Genre: F/M, Post-Norn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-31
Updated: 2014-08-31
Packaged: 2018-02-15 13:27:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2230740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jujubiest/pseuds/jujubiest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dyson tries to rekindle the passion he once felt for Bo after the Norn took it from him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fire from Ashes

**Author's Note:**

> I don't actually know. I just started watching Lost Girl and somehow marathoned a whole season in one night so I'm sleep deprived and this may be gibberish for all I know. But this whole post-Norn stolen passion storyline is fucking with my head and I find myself really needing to know what's going on in Dyson's because I feel like we're not getting ANYTHING from him about how he's feeling or what he's thinking right now.

He stared at her, his sharp eyes taking in all the little details: the curve of her cheek, the flash of her eyes. The way the lights reflected off her dark hair.

She was beautiful, as she always had been. But it was only a fact, observed with the same clinical air with which he examined evidence when on a case. He saw it. He understood it. But he didn't feel it. He reached out for it, that deep ache of longing that came from being around her: amusement, surprise, endless frustration, and also joy. It was always overwhelming, and it always ached.

_I leave you with the memories of what you have lost, but you will never feel passion for her again!_

It was true; the Norn was nothing if not honest...at least when she knew her honesty had the power to cause her supplicants more pain.

He remembered everything. Every moment together, every quickening of pulse, every brush of their hands on each other's skin...everything. He remembered the way his face would fall inevitably into a smile watching her. He remembered being impressed, scared even...by her strength, her bravery. It was a nearly constant, gut-wrenching fear, watching her fight tooth and nail against a system that wanted nothing more than to consume her or, failing that, kill her off. He remembered wanting to scream at the sky--gods, howl at the fucking _moon_ \--with anger at himself, at her, at the universe for his foolish insistence on loving this woman.

He remembered it...but it was gone from him now. The absence left behind an ache of its own. It was a dull imitation, only a shadow. Smoke floating up from ashes where once there had been a blazing fire.

It was gone now. He knew that, in the clinical part of his brain. To reverse the Norn's price...impossible. But Hale's earlier words had stuck with him, in spite of his best efforts not to allow himself to even dare to hope. Watching her in the dark with that hollowness beneath his ribs...it wasn't love, but it was an ache. It was something. And sometimes, ashes can be fanned back into flames.

And if anyone could do the impossible, it was Bo.

He moved toward her, and she turned as though she could sense him in the movement of the air. Perhaps she could. He stepped into her space and tilted his head down to hers, eyes intent on her face. Her mouth smiled, small and maybe a little relieved. Her eyes closed, dark lashes fanning against her cheeks. Their lips touched, and she melted into him. Like he'd never been gone, like she wasn't even mad. Like nothing was wrong between them at all.

But it _was_ wrong. He felt the softness her body against his, the press of her lips, the beginnings of arousal coiling low in his stomach...and it was all cold. Empty. Nothing. The ashes remained ashes. The smoke dissipated in the cool night air, leaving his head painfully, sharply clear.

The memory of love wasn't enough. And Bo deserved better than ashes.

He drew away from her slowly, and looked down at the woman he had given his heart to; the one he had loved more dearly even than he loved himself, without even fully realizing it. He allowed his heart a last dull throb of that once-removed longing for longing, and then he shut it off. Shut it down. He would not pretend to something that he was no longer capable of. He would not do that to her, for the sake of the love he once felt.

He would walk away, and let Bo get on with her life. It was the last thing he had to give to her, and he would give it willingly.


End file.
